Paradox
by Ixy Morningstar
Summary: A RIFT: Planes of Telara story that utilizes a lot of the quantum mechanics that exist in the game, and the expansive soul system that exists.
1. Chapter 1

The voices were muffled, distant and clouded as though they were being spoken through thick mud; there had been voices like this several times recently, over the past…how long? What is time to one who has moved beyond their life and into the Soul Stream? There are but flickers, ripples, never concrete, never solid in a place where time doesn't exactly exist.

Louder.

All those voices were getting louder, yet none of them were clear yet. Occasionally, a Shaman of great power could pierce the veil between Telara and the Soulstream, and converse with those who had passed on or those who had yet to be born. There had never been more than one, or possibly two if the Shaman was training another, so that didn't solve the mystery of the voices.

"_…vit… ..ized_," one said, almost hopeful in its tone.

Another voice drifted past, "_…pening… …ayb… …aking…_"

Something wasn't right. I could feel it, which was awkward, as I had not truly felt anything since I returned to the Soulstream. Not since…

It was then that my eyes snapped open, blinded by the false lighting that glared down into them. Even as my eyes were clearing, my mind was marveling at the fact that they were there at all; the last I knew, my eyes had been preserved with a special apothecary mixture, and wrapped up in linen. How strange that I should have them again.

All at once, I became aware of other sensations, so many of them that it became difficult to sort through them all logically.

Burning.

I was still burning. I could feel ungodly heat racing through my veins and into my heart, into my mind. They felt like they were going to explode, rip apart from the inside out as the fires burst free. Was I somehow lost in the plane of Fire, awakening into a hellish servitude…but how could that be, it felt like I was drifting for so long.

There were screams. No, there was only one scream – my scream, and yet it sounded nothing like what I remembered.

"We're losing her!" one of the voices shouted. "Where the hell are the sedatives?"

The fires were doing something to my body. As they spread out from my heart and mind, I could feel a strange sensation of change, almost how it feels to have a salve solidify on the skin, yet all throughout the flesh. Muscles flexed to their breaking points, and continued to flex beyond what they felt should be capable of. Every nerve was alive with this fire, intensifying over and over again as the heat shifted my very being.

"Not yet! She hasn't sync'd with the core yet!" another voice shouted.

There was the sound of rushing wings, as if hundreds of birds were suddenly swirling about my head, even though all I could see were harsh, false streaks of light. The rivers of fire had expanded so greatly that I could no longer feel them individually; instead they flooded together like one great maelstrom of power. Perhaps my body had to combust fully before I could rejoin the Soulstream…but I'd already been there for what felt like forever.

Suddenly, the fires were quenched, and I felt the cooling touch of water washing over me, chasing away that undying burning. Was the Soulstream literally a stream?

The waters began to swirl about me, moving downward as if they were being drained away. The false lights became sharper, and I could make out some sort of windows running parallel to one another before me. Absently, I reached out for one, and found that I was tethered at the wrist.

A clear, sharp voice cut through my questioning thought before it finished forming.

"See, I told you it would be alright," a man's voice said. "She sync'd up, her vitals stabilized, and the process completed."

It was then I realized that I was, in fact, alive once more.

Squinting, I tried to peer out the windows, but they were still clouded from the warmth of the waters that were slowly receding. I looked down at the tethers that bound me, and discovered that they were tubes, with needles injecting them into my arms at the wrist and again at the elbow. There was some sort of liquid within them, and it too was receding as the waters that had surrounded me were.

I couldn't reach the windows, but there were figures moving beyond the glass, although I couldn't tell who or what they were. I tried to call out to them, but before I could make any sort of sound, my body was wracked with a painful coughing fit. After a moment, I took several deep breaths, and I wondered if this was the first time I had breathed the air with this body.

The body – instinctively, I knew it wasn't my own. I looked downward, at myself, at least what I could see from this perspective. It was clear that I was Eth, though I was unsure what tribe this body was from; my skin was darker than I recalled it being, and it was soft like a newborn child's would be. Its shape was quite different from the one I could remember, quite a bit curvier and feminine, which was something I wasn't exactly too distressed about. Turning and tilting my head to the side, I could see wet strands of bright white clinging to my shoulder, and smiled that at least that part was right; I'd always hated how stark white my hair was compared to other Eth.

Once the waters had receded, the dark walls with their steamed windows shifted, and there was the sound of groaning metal against metal, and they slowly broke apart and began to sink downward into some sort of pedestal. The lights were quite bright now, and I couldn't really see anything for a brief and tense few seconds.

When they refocused, I found myself staring face to face with a middle aged Eth man, who was smiling as if he had just defeated Regulos all by himself. While I cannot claim that I am like a sister to the Eth, I was quite close to them for the majority of my life, and I did not recognize the one before me. He was chattering brightly in an unfamiliar dialect as he removed the tubes from my arms, untethering me from the great machine that I had been confined within.

"I don't understand you," I replied, frowning.

He gave me a curious look, and called out to someone behind him. A rather short Eth woman rushed up the steps and looked at him, frowning despite the fact the Kelari was trying to keep his smile upon his lips. They conversed for a brief moment, and then she turned to me.

"Can you understand me?" she asked.

It was Ancient Eth, from the height of the Empire. Why on Telara was she speaking in Ancient Eth?

Blinking, an unfamiliar voice answered her with my thoughts, "Of course, but why are you speaking in such ancient tongues?"  
>That was my voice. It was deeper than it had been before, and remarkably more melodic and pleasing. I suppose that was going to take some getting used to, but for the moment, I felt completely disconnected from the voice.<p>

"My name is Mari," she replied, smiling slightly as she clasped my upper arm. "I am one of Orphiel's technicians. We've brought you back to life."

I was stunned. Eyes wide, I let the Kelari slip a loose robe over my arms and shoulders, my arms wrapping around myself to keep it closed. This Mari lead me down off the platform, and I saw that there were many great machines here, and others who were like Mari and the Kelari and one other who was soaking wet like I was.

"You'll likely need a few minutes to become accustom to your new Ascended form. We try to match the souls with the proper baseline genetic codes," Mari prattled, "but occasionally there are instances where it's harder for the soul to accept it – usually when we bring a very ancient soul back, since most of us have changed greatly since then."

Ancient soul?

Stopping dead in my tracks, I stared at the shorter Eth for a long moment before I finally managed to ask, "How long has it been since Regulos was defeated? When was the last Rift finally sealed?"

Mari looked almost as shocked as I felt. She blinked several times and whispered, "The Shade War ended about thirty years ago, how could you know that when all you can speak is the more popular of the Ancient Eth dialects!"

After a moment, she sighed and replied, "It's been a very long time since the Kelari turned from Tavril, and from the height of the Eth Empire. Unfortunately, Regulos has broken free from his prison, and is threatening to destroy Telara once more. That's why we brought you back, actually."

I reached out and gripped her shoulder, feeling lightheaded as I whispered, "How long has it been since the Defiant alliance left Port Scion?"

"Oh, that was pretty recent. I think that one of the older scholars here could give you the exact dates," the girl said, looking confused. "If you know about Port Scion, why can't you understand modern language?"

"…damned by the Vigil's short hairs, this is our past," I managed to say before the world went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

I remained unconscious for some time, trapped in an endless loop that played a life that never would come to pass; I saw the loves I would never have, the battles I would never fight, the children I would never have, and I wondered who exactly am I if my life no longer exists as I knew it? All of the experiences that shaped me over the course of hundreds of years vanishing the instant my soul was brought back to life in a time so long before my birth, and I did not know if all would be restored if I were to kill myself.

When I finally awoke, the page that was tending to the room I was in informed me that I had been unconscious for nearly three days; I had lost all sense of what that truly meant, as there was no time within the Soulstream, and I had been there for so long. Rather than try to explain such a thing to a child so young, I merely thanked the young Eth and he said he was going to get the Cleric.

A short while later, the door opened and an oddly willowy Bahmi entered the room, her soft blue robes whispering around her legs and arms as she moved. She carried a large staff with several strands of beads and feathers hanging from it, and the entire thing radiated with a faint white glow. The woman smiled, quite serene despite the typical gruff nature of the Bahmi, and set down on the chair beside my bed.

"You've returned to the land of the living," she said in an odd Eth dialect, her tone amused, "and now you've returned to the land of the waking."

She lifted her hand then, a strong golden glow surrounding her fingertips as she reached out and ran her hand over the air above me. I felt a warm gust of air wherever her hand hovered, and I could feel the warmth sink down into my skin. After passing over my body twice, she nodded in a sort of satisfactory kind of way before speaking again.

"I understand that you're from an odd place upon the chronological path of Telara," she said softly. "I am Ykatya Mehroe, Cleric and temporal anomaly specialist. Could you please elaborate upon this for me?"

Temporal anomaly specialist? I'd never heard of it before, and briefly wondered how badly the timeline had been altered.

"Well, in the history I learned as a child, the second war against Regulos finished roughly ten years after the exodus from Port Scion. I was born approximately three hundred and forty two years after the last rift was sealed after that war," I replied slowly. "And I lived for just over a hundred years before dying in what should have been one of the last battles of the Telaran Civil Wars."

The Bahmi woman tilted her head as I spoke, though her eyes revealed a surprising level of understanding amid their calm. She was clearly intrigued by the future that I had experienced, yet I could tell there was more to her thoughts than simple curiosity; this Cleric was more of a scholar than half the Mages I had met in my lifetime. I had a feeling that I would be spending quite a bit of time with her over the next few weeks.

"That is quite a pleasant future compared to our current timeline. Exactly how was Regulos thwarted in your history?" Ykatya asked.

I braced myself for her reaction, given that I had yet to see a single member of the traditional Guardian races here – my guess was that the two sides were still at odds here in this past.

"A rather charismatic man named Raphael D`Angelo convinced the majority of the Defiants and the majority of the Vigil to unite as one force to end Regulos' tyranny and destruction," I explained carefully. "The Endless Court and Regulos' dragonkin could not withstand the combined might of our two empires, with machines that were temporarily empowered by the Vigil, and fell within six or so months of the Treaty of the Argent Knight."

Ykatya stared at me for a very long, tense moment, silent and passive as her mind processed what I had told her. It was clear to me that my guess about the state of relations between the Defiants and Guardians were close to what I thought they were, although it was pleasant that she didn't immediately rip me apart for such a suggestion."

"Intriguing," she said at last. "D`Angelo was murdered a few months ago while trying to sway the common man toward his cause. It is possible that this is what caused the divergence in our timelines."

Something about this didn't sound right to me, and I expressed as much to the Bahmi woman. "If it was months ago, wouldn't D`Angelo's death have rewritten the future already, which would cause my memories to be altered?" I asked, temporal theory not being my strong point.

The Cleric smiled almost serenely again and replied, "This is where things drift from what we know of temporal physics into what we first perceived to be paradoxical incidents. I believe that that the destabilization of the planes has not only allowed passage from one plane to the next, but also has created temporal maelstroms that are causing multiple timelines to emerge simultaneous, and invisibly to one another."

I suddenly felt quite stupid, as I was barely capable of wrapping my mind around what this woman was suggesting. The idea that more than one Telara existed in potentially the same space but in different times and thus different realities was a bit beyond the kind of thing presented in the temporal theories in my day, which were supposed to be more advanced than the past theories. Whatever had begun altering the chronological structure of our world, or worlds, seemed to be causing an early revolution in the field of temporal physics. There were a number of scholars from my day that would be chomping at the bit to get pulled back into such a turbulent period of time…the bloody morons.

"Let me get this straight. It's possible that the reason I remember this future that is largely impossible for this timeline is because when the two timelines diverged, one continued as I remember it and the other continued as it is now," I said, my tone a bit faster than before, "and that these two timelines are essentially running parallel to one another, but are completely obscured from each other all because of the tears in the fabric between Telara and the planes?"

She wasn't fazed in the slightest by my conjuncture. "Precisely, more or less. I suspect that each timeline is enshrouded by a similar type of veil that keeps the Prime Material separated from the realm of the Dead, for example," she replied, adjusting a stray braid. "These discrepancies may or may not be resolved if Regulos is defeated and the planes are sealed as they should be again. All the timelines could converge into one sort of averaged timeline, or they could continue independently, or they could cease to exist entirely."

This was heavy stuff. The subsequent backlashes from each possibility were frightening, and there was no clear way to determine which would be the end result. Several of the more fatalistic outcomes raced through my mind, crowding one another and clamoring for my attentions. I was developing a splitting headache from it, along with a very distinct urge to try and end this lifetime, hoping that it would correct everything for me.

"How many others that have been brought back to life came from these divergent futures?" I asked the Cleric.

Ykatya frowned, which was quite disturbing at this point, the expression deepening as her explanation grew. "Well, that is rather complicated. Every so often, an Ascended Defiant from a rather hopeless future arrives at the fail safe device Orphiel built a few months back," she explained. "Aside from these, there have been roughly five or six that we have confirmed existed in another timeline's future, and of those, only one hasn't gone mad and ripped their soul out of existence."

…out of existence? That sounded ominous.

"Precisely what do you mean by 'ripped their soul out of existence'?" I tentatively asked – part of me did not want to hear the answer.

The Cleric sighed before speaking, "A soul only has so much vital essence to it. While we have learned to heal this essence when a soul is scarred from a death, one can avoid such and allow their soul to degrade until this essence is used up. Once the last threshold is crossed, and more vitality is expended than that which remains, the soul ceases to exist, passing into Oblivion."

Completely and utterly ominous, as expected.

"Wait. Soul scarred from death? We only die once, unless your technicians just keep bringing back the same people over and over again," I asked, my voice rising in pitch.

Silence fell over the room, and the Bhami woman stared at me with an expression of surprise, followed by an expression of uncertainty. I was swiftly starting to dislike this particular timeline, as it was far more complicated and far more harrowing than the one I had come from. Not only had my life been taken from me, but this place sounded like it was on a fast track to the polar opposite of the world I knew and loved.

Finally, Ykatya spoke again.

"You must have fainted before they were able to tell you everything. I…don't expect you to be thrilled with this news, but we are not just reviving the dead and giving them new bodies," she said slowly, her voice soft, "we're raising them as Ascendants, like those the Vigil create to protect the Guardians. Those we bring back are nearly immortal, so long as they do not allow their soul's vitality to dip beyond what they have."

Immortality. That was something that my twin brother had been chasing for years through his necromantic studies, and here these technically primitive Defiants had found a way to eternal life; the irony was not lost upon me, and I could almost hear my brother growling his annoyances.

My head was throbbing with an intense headache as a tidal wave of thoughts washed over my mind, creating a maelstrom of despair and frustration. This wasn't fair.


	3. Chapter 3

It took several weeks to learn the basics of the various Defiant languages of this timeline as well as becoming fluent in the common tongue we had developed in the infancy of our alliances. Ykatya taught me Bhami and the common language, a Kelari man named Lorien taught me 'modern' Kelari, while an Eth woman named Sonya taught me their desert tongues. Late at night, when most of the other Defiant were sleeping in their beds, Ykatya would teach me the small smattering of High Elven and Mathosian she knew, as well as a passing amount of the common language the Guardians shared. While it had been difficult to remember the nuances of each language during my first lifetime, I found it much easier to retain the information now, likely due to the Ascendance.

Once I had a strong enough grasp of the language, I was directed to the courtyards of Meridian to begin my training in the finer techniques of Ascendancy. I was questioned by several people who seemed to be overseeing the greater spectrum of the Callings, and swiftly informed them that I had and always would be a Mage. I was sent deeper into the courtyard, and discovered there were a variety of Master Magi present here, with their respective students at their feet. While I myself had studied the more offensive techniques of Death magic, my brother had walked the path of Necromancy, finding the ways of the Warlock far too boring for his vast intellect.

I had always been curious about my brother's devotion to Necromancy, and he had taught me enough of the basics for me to raise a rather brittle and witless skeleton. For a moment, I was torn between following in my brother's footsteps – and potentially getting lost in his shadow – or to return to the path that I knew so well. There were already enough inconsistencies between this body and my original one, however, so I elected to return to the dark arts of the Warlock.

Awakening that part of my soul proved to be fairly easy, likely due to nearly one hundred years' worth of practice I had with the dark arts. After a few frustrating fizzles, each spell began to flow from my lips and fingertips, and soon I was advancing far enough for the Master Magi to send me on my way.

Unlike mortals, the Ascended have more than one soul, which was something it took some time for me to grasp entirely. There were a number of ways that Ascended interacted with souls in a manner that mortals did not – some Ascendants literally consumed the soul, others merged them with their own soul, some kept their souls separated and much like a mild personality disorder, while others merely learned what the soul had to teach before sending it back into the Soulstream; an uncommon few had two methods of interacting with the soul, while a rare few were able to pick what their interaction type would be. What caused the soul to interact the way it did with other souls was a mystery still, and often a topic of hot debate. Some considered the consummation of souls to be unethical, while others saw anything more than learning from a soul was unethical. A few believed those who took the souls into themselves but kept them separate were a danger due to the fact that their mind may become fractured by the competition for dominance between the souls.

Needless to say, I waited for several days before consenting to acquiring a second soul, weighing the options presented to me, and determining how I would handle each type of interaction. Despite such reflection, I truly did not have a solid ethical standpoint about the soul interactions, but I felt comfortable enough with each possibility to continue my training as an Ascendant.

The Master Magi gave me a specially attuned 'net' that was supposed to draw a specifically tuned soul out, in this case a Necromancer's soul, from the Soulstream that flows in and around the Plane of Death; souls that congregated within the deeper areas of the plane were corrupted by Regulos, quite insane and unaware, and it was these souls that we 'rescued' and absorbed or learned from. The net itself required a special stone that could be found in the ruins of some rifts as they were closing to power it, and they attuned to the harvester, so I was instructed to seek out my own. I was also given a special container to trap the soul in, as I was supposed to return with it and be monitored while interacting with the soul. I was assured that the moderate technique I had with Warlock arts would be sufficient enough for me to isolate and close a minor rift on my own.

Before I could leave Meridian, Ykatya sent a page after me, and I quickly made my way to her office within the College of Planar Studies. She was meditating atop the soft pillows that were scattered over the open area of her floor, several auras of elements drifting around her being as she grounded herself. I remained silently beside the doorway, waiting for her to finish her meditations, though I did not have to wait for long. Within minutes, the auras faded and the Bahmi woman drew herself upward and turned towards me.

"I have unpleasant news, Aradia," she began, cutting to the chase as she usually did. "I spoke with Grayson, and was able to convince him to explain how he died to me. He said, almost in as many words, that a Guardian loving traitor of the Eth murdered him in an outpost he was stationed at."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes, shaking my head as I sighed, "Stationed…right. Well, it sounds like it's the Grayson from my timeline."

Ykatya nodded, looking mildly disturbed as she continued, "I fear that you will not be able to keep your secret for longer than a few months; rarely does it take longer than three or four for other Ascendants bodies to change."

"Well, then I've got a lot of work to do between now and then, don't I?" I replied, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Such as collecting a soul. Keep me informed, Ykatya, as best you can without it interfering with your primary tasks."

The Cleric nodded, and I made my way out of the College, through the Courtyards and out to the front of the massive city-fortress. At any given hour, there could be three or four rifts within the whole area of Freemarch or there could be nearly fifteen; the sky was only half draped in strange colours, so I estimated that there were likely only seven or eight rifts currently active. Locating the smallest swathe of colour, I struck out across the torn fields of battle, avoiding as much combat as I could until after I dealt with the rift denizens and the soul.

Conveniently, I found a minor Death rift first, though I had been heading toward what looked like a water rift. The majority of the currently active rifts were gateways to the Death plane at the moment, so I wasn't too surprised that I had missed it in my initial surveillance. There were only three ghastly beings and the beginnings of an idol amid them, and they were easily dispatched one at a time.

As the rift began to seal, a purple crystal fell from the last few tendrils of Death, and I quickly gathered it and set it into place within the handle of the 'net'. Before the rift had sealed completely, I struck out into the fading tendrils with the contraption, and there was a brief flare of dark power as it extracted a soul from the other side. The soul tore through the net, and it vanished just as the rift was, leaving nothing behind to mark its existence save for the shimmering being that was coalescing before me.

The energies took form, and I found myself staring face to face with my reflection for several seconds before I released it wasn't truly a reflection at all; it was my brother, although from the dark streaks within his vitality and his strangely glowing eyes I realized he had fallen victim to Regulos' influence. Before I could reflect on this any further, the distorted shade lunged for me, throwing out a bolt of plagued energy.

"Gods forefend, Qismat, stop it! I'm your sister!" I screamed as I ducked to my right, rolling hard along the ground before standing. "For the love of Telara, fight him!"

Obviously, I wasn't exactly capable of attacking my twin, as it was strangely like I was attacking myself. Instead, I avoided his deadly attacks, and picked off any skeletons that he managed to raise while trying to talk sense into him. There had to be a small chance that I could avoid having to harm him, and I was intent upon making it work rather than resorting to the obvious method of pacifying him.

"Was this your punishment for pushing the limitations of Necromancy so far? Did the Vigil finally win out?" I shouted as another skeleton crumbled into dust. "Did the man who screamed at me for anything that resembled falling from grace submit to another's will? Are you proud to be a mangled slave of Regulos?"

This continued for some time, although my time sense never fully corrected, so I am unsure of exactly how long I was hurling insults at my brother as he hurled plagues and poxes at me. It became painfully clear to me that there was no getting through whatever control Regulos had over him, at least not while I was newly reborn. Most of the remnants of the rift had vanished, though a sort of hotspot surrounded my twin like a fatalistic aura, we had been fighting that long.

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I turned to face down the man I placed above all others for the entire length of my lifetime, summoning up all the power I had been holding back. Lifting my sword as I turned, I channeled the energies of pure Death down my arm and into the blade, lunging toward him as I pushed the energy out through the tip of the sword. The focus in my left hand surged, wrapping a heavy layer of Death energies about my body, protecting me from much of my brother's assault. While we had dueled often during our lifetime together, we never truly had unleashed our full powers upon one another, making it more like play fighting than an actual duel. This time, things were dramatically different.

During our youth, my brother and I had discovered that the dark arts I used as a Warlock were synergistic to the ones he used as a Necromancer. Since we were twins, we had the uncanny ability to essentially link our minds and think nearly in tandem with one another, which allowed us to make some interesting uses of our powers. Taking a rather large gamble, I decided to try and use this bond to force him to lose control of his power, while I siphoned it off to increase my own. While I did not wish to destroy my twin, I had to subdue him as quickly as possible or I may not be given a choice.

His mind was quite alien from the one I knew, twisted and shattered several times over by Regulos' tortures, and a nearly overwhelming sense of fear exploded behind my skull. It was difficult to tell if it was my mind's reaction to the dark power that gripped my brother, or what he had been feeling since falling prey to Regulos' power. I believe it may have been more of the latter with a touch of the former swathing it. The link was established, however, and I quickly began to put my theory into action.

It did not take long for his spells to become unstable, and soon they were more like splashes rather than full force bolts. My own spells became unstable, but in the opposite manner, swelling with power as I did my best to stun and disorient my brother's soul without destroying it. This particular part of the battle did not last all that long, my twin's soul collapsing into a heap only a few sparse minutes after I had created the link.

Gently, I opened up the container that the Master Magi had given me, and just as gently, I moved it toward my brother's broken soul. His form shimmered, slowly melting as if he were made of snow, his form flowing into the container quite easily. Despite how serene the process appeared to be, I was uneasy about having to trap him even temporarily; I also feared that I would lose him entirely if the type of interaction I had with souls devoured him.

This was obviously not something I wanted to deal with before the Master Magi and the other Ascendants, as there was no way of knowing what Qismat would do once the next process started. He also was obviously not entirely of the same Eth tribe this body was and had spent so little time in the light that he was as pale as a Mathosian, which would only serve to raise more questions, even if there was no indication that we were related. While I would likely catch hell for it, I could not take this soul back and possibly have a horrible outcome.

Of course, this meant I was taking it to Ykatya, as she was an Ascendant herself so she had to know how this all worked.


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't think you grasp what my luck is like, Ykatya. Thontic creates a special hell for me, I'm sure of it."

That was not exactly something any Defiant, let alone a Cleric, would ever want to hear. It didn't take much to pick up on the community of this time and place in regards to the Guardians and their Gods, which largely meant never saying anything about them unless I was alone with Ykatya; even then, I tended to hold my tongue, which meant having to come up with new, creative curses.

She stared at the glowing container on the table, watching the vital soul stuff that was Qismat swirling within the glass, clearly none too happy about his current state. I'm sure I would get an earful for the rest of eternity over this one. The Cleric circled the table once, watching my disembodied brother the entire time, likely trying to calculate the probability of the coincidences in my new life. There's a statistician somewhere in the College weeping, I'm sure.

At the moment, I was trying to decide if informing Ykatya of one of the secrets my twin and I shared was worth more than the stinging backlash he'd give me for it. Technically, I don't think that any of my promises about our secrets – or his, for that matter – counted any longer, as we would swear to 'take it to our graves' and we both already had been in one. He'd never liked technicalities, however, so I doubt that arguing such was going to help any.

"Look, this doesn't leave this room, alright?" I said, pausing only until she agreed. "My brother and I were very close. When we were quite young, and still not entirely aware of the consequences, we swore a blood oath that we would be together no matter who or what, for the rest of eternity."

"Apparently Mariel-Taun took you quite seriously, despite your age," she replied, watching the violently swirling essence that was Qismat closely. I was actually surprised by her reference to any of the Vigil, but now wasn't exactly the time to deal with that.

The Bahmi woman straightened, and turned to look at me before moving to get her staff and a rather non-descript looking cloak that she promptly threw over herself, obscuring most of her recognizable features. She motioned to a similar cloak on the wall next to where that one had rested, and I moved to do the same as she.

"While I understand why you do not wish to have the Master Magi help with this," she said softly as she moved toward the door, "this isn't exactly the best place to be doing this – some soul interactions are ah…quite loud and bright."

I collected my brother's cell from the table, hiding it as best as I could beneath the cloak; I looked like an old, decrepit woman as I hunched over the container. Such was advantageous at the moment, yet oddly disturbing as I never had lived to see an age that sapped that much vitality from my limbs.

She led us out of Meridian and around to the steep mountain face beside it, heading back towards the Ark, right along where the ground met the mountain. I was a bit concerned, as she was leading us right towards a rather large looking rift; however she stopped far enough away that the denizens would be hard pressed to see us. There really wasn't anything out here aside from nature and the rifts, which was exactly what we needed.

"How does this work exactly?" I asked as we shed our cloaks and set up a small camp.

"You're not going to like it, I don't think, as this is your brother," she replied, keeping the fire low but warm. "Nearly all of the interactions require you to inhale the soul, which often feels sort of like drinking it."

Oh yes, I did not like that idea one bit. Several memories flashed through my mind, secrets that my twin and I shared throughout our lives, but I pushed them away; I was quite sure the same were flashing through Qismat's…mind, essence…whatever.

We stared at each other for a very long moment, while Qismat and I went through our rather disturbing reverie. While I knew Ykatya couldn't hear or see what was going through my head, it still felt quite awkward to be sharing this particular part of the moment with her; then I imagined sharing it with the Master Magi, and promptly felt better about the situation. It could have been much, much worse.

"Right," I said finally. "Let's get this over with then, shall we?"

Ykatya nodded, stepping back slightly. She kept her staff at a loose ready stance, and I wondered if there was a chance that an Ascendant would be consumed by the soul they were interacting with, instead of the other way around – why else would she need to remain anywhere near battle ready?

My gaze moved from the Bahmi down to the container resting in my hands. Qismat's soul essence was swirling slowly, almost hesitantly, and I realized he was just as afraid of what may happen next as I was, even if he didn't entirely understand what was going on. My brother was smarter than I was, so even though they really never got into what exactly made an Ascendant an Ascended being, he likely had figured out what Ykatya and I had been talking about even without much of a reference point.

Slowly, I began to unfasten the container, whispering in a barely audible voice, "I'm so sorry, Qismat. Please forgive me…"

The container popped open, the lid falling backward even as I tipped the jar forward and began to breath in with the lip of the jar kissing my own lips. The swirling soul essence fell like a thick mist, following the intake of air reluctantly, and I felt a strange sensation play out over my inner mouth, slowly creeping down my throat. I breathed out briefly through my nose, and began breathing in deeply once more, half of the swirling remains left; I did not need another breath to finish draining the last of my twin's soul from the jar.

Distantly, I heard the sound of glass shattering against soft ground, and I thought I heard someone call out my name, but they were so far away. The strange sensation was spreading through my body, and I vaguely recalled a more intense but similar sensation during the process of rebirth. Something wasn't right, but I was too unfocused to realize what exactly was going on as the world shifted.

Surprisingly, I did not lose consciousness, at least not in the exact literal sense – something very different was occurring for me than what was actually happening to my body, however...


	5. Chapter 5

"_So where are we?_"

It felt like an eternity since I had heard Qismat's voice, although he had largely been nearby within the Soulstream until shortly before I was reborn, but the souls don't really speak there, at least not with audible voices. He sounded wary, and I suppose I can't blame him for being such, since I was wary myself.

His question made me take a look around us, and I realized that we weren't exactly in the terra firma of Telara anymore. It was devoid of colour, and washed in a strange pale light that seemed to emanate from most things here, including myself and my twin, who was only slightly more confused than me at this point.

Qismat was also rather translucent and monochromatic, and his light was different than the light the other things made here. I looked down at myself and saw that I was quite the same, except I had a bit more hint of colour than everything else; at least here I didn't need a torch or a lively rift to see in the dead of night, so I suppose it wasn't all bad, yet.

"_I don't know. I…haven't seen this place before,_" I replied. "_It's still Telara, I think._"

Confused, I tried to focus on the landscape, as it was quite blurry due to that soft glow most things were producing. Slowly, Telara came into focus, and I saw the faint image of Ykatya hovering over my body, chanting and raining healing spells down upon my fallen form. That was rather startling, seeing myself lying on the ground apparently dying, largely because by all rights, I should have returned to the Soulstream. Curious.

I motioned to Qismat and pointed at the scene, quietly explaining, "_Look…if you focus hard enough, you can see the actual Telara from here._"

"_Ah, yes. There's your Bahmi friend there,_" he commented, pausing before asking, "_Is that you there lying on the ground?_"

Of course, my body now was different than the one familiar to my twin, and from my new vantage point, I realized exactly how different my body in this time and place was. I nodded and sighed, turning away from the scene to look at my brother, trying to fathom what exactly was happening.

"_You looked different before, but crumpled up like that, it's even stranger,_" he said off-handedly.

Snapping my fingers before his face, he turned toward me with a sour expression; he hated when I did such things, however he often would get so lost in his own thoughts to the point where only something life-threatening or irritating would call his attentions back to the rest of the world. Ironically, his deep reveries at the most inappropriate times were one of my pet peeves with him, so I suppose it's only fair to fight fire with fire.

"_I don't think there's anything we can do to interact with the rest of Telara while we're here, wherever here actually is,_" I said quickly, so that he couldn't get in any complaints. "_The question is – why are we here?_"

He looked rather uncomfortable for a long moment, and then very quietly said, "_Well, the last thing I recall was…being swallowed by you, although it was more like you were breathing than eating. It was rather disturbing, actually. It reminded me of-_"

"_Don't say it. I thought that too, but this is neither the time nor the place for reflections on such,_" I snapped, and I'm sure that at least a faint bit of pink came to my cheeks then. "_Let me better explain what exactly is going on here, then perhaps we can figure out what we're meant to do._"

With that, I launched into a very condensed version of what had occurred to me, why I was brought back, what exactly I was now, why I ended up with his soul being in a jar, and what precisely the breathing…moment was. He looked a little concerned, and quite a bit curiously confused, as he always did when presented with something strange that he was still capable of wrapping his mind around. It wouldn't surprise me if my brother became quite immersed in the theories and mechanics behind the rebirthing process; he always was a little odd that way.

"_So then this is what your soul interactions are like,_" he mused, smirking slightly. "Y_ou always were one for oddities and dramatics – though I would have expected your alter-Telara to have a bit more colour and vibrancy to it._"

"_I don't think this is my own creation, Qismat. It's not exactly my style, as you've noted,_" I growled, not exactly in the mood for his patronization. "_But this is likely a soul interaction; however it's not one of the ones that Ykatya told me were common for Ascendants to experience._"

"_You're an Ascendant then…,_" he paused, brow knitting. "_Yet you were not made by the Vigil in the eleventh hour of the War for Telara, like we were taught as children, making this likely an alternate reality from our own. That would mean the Soulstream is in—_"

I was losing his attention again, so I loudly cut him off. "_Qismat, focus! None of that will matter if we can't figure this out. You're the bloody necromancer, there has to be something that you can think of that I wouldn't have learned yet._"

He blinked slightly, and inclined his head downward, frowning as he glanced around our surroundings. After a moment, he walked over to my body and knelt down, placing his hand on my head, although it seemed it started to go through my body…which was unsettling. He incanted an unfamiliar spell, and his frown deepened, clearly not getting the results he desired.

"_I don't think I have the knowledge to get us out of this one, Dia,_" he sighed, rather irritated at his lack of understanding. Both of us had a similar reaction when this happened, although his was always deeper and more personal than my own, and it took him quite a bit longer to shake off his failures due to lack of knowledge or creativity.

We both looked around at the strange place we were, both frowning in nearly perfect mirror image, except for his was deeper than my own. Absently, I made my way to his side and took his hand in mine, standing beside him as we watched Ykatya trying to revive me; when we were barely toddlers, we had taken to holding one another's hands at different moments, particularly when we were worried or scared. There was a deep comfort in being able to do so again, and I could almost feel warmth generating from his hand…

…no, that really was warm – it was starting to get downright hot.

Simultaneously, we looked down to discover that there was an energy building in the scant space between our hands. It was growing, rather quickly, and when I tried to yank my hand away from his, I found that it was impossible – my fingers wouldn't move even though my mind was screaming at them to. Qismat looked just as confused as I did, and a bit more concerned.

"_This…can't be good,_" he said softly, watching the light grow and pull us together.

Absently, I repeated what I had told Ykatya while he was still in his jar, "_Thontic has his own special hell for us, Qismat – I think he decided our blood oath was far more serious than we previously thought._"

By now, the light was quite strong, and my face was only inches away from is, the light's powers were binding us, pulling us tightly together, yet surprisingly we were still two separate beings…who just couldn't be separated. Fearing that such might come at the end of all this, I quickly brushed Qismat's hair out of his eyes, and kissed him good bye – again.

The light swelled, and that's where my conscious memory halts, as it did when I fainted, except this time blindingly bright…


	6. Chapter 6

Something was wrong; no, something was very wrong.

I felt like I had been hit by a rather large boulder, and could smell the grass beneath me…and I could hear a woman incanting over and over again, leaving a slight tingle on my skin after each spell was cast.

Slowly, I lifted my head toward the sound, eyes opening just as slowly. Standing before me was a rather panic-struck Bahmi woman in what appeared to be Clerical vestments of some sort, with some sort of staff that pulsed with power. I thought I recognized the voice, but I really couldn't place it at the moment because my head was throbbing with the worst headache I have had in…

…wait a minute…

A few things came rushing back to me through the rhythmic thrumming in my skull – I recalled being dead and residing in the Soulstream, I recalled being enslaved by Regulos sometime after, and then I recalled being forced to fight a woman who seemed very familiar even though she did not look familiar. She reminded me of…

…no, it couldn't be…

I stared at the Bahmi for some time before slowly pushing myself up into a sitting position, keeping my eyes focused on her for the moment as I did so. Then as my eyes slowly looked down, and my hands pressed flat against the upper part of my stomach, where the belly meets the chest.

"Oh, fuck," I said, as it was the first thing that came to mind.

The Bahmi stared at me for a moment, frowning before she finally asked, "Dia, are you alright?"

Fuck was clearly an understatement.

Still staring at the woman, I thought out what exactly needed to be done at this point. Given the circumstances, it was rather clear to me that my sister trusted whoever this woman was, as I doubt she would ever reveal me to anyone whom she thought less of. However, I had no point of reference for this woman, no idea what to think of her or know whether or not my sister's faith was misplaced – it would not be the first time it was.

And in that moment, I told the most fantastic, bald faced lie that I possibly could.

In a voice that was entirely alien to me, I replied, "I…I'm fine, Ykatya – merely disoriented."

The woman looked skeptical. I was trying my best to imitate my sister's speech patterns; however they were quite a bit different from my own. She tended to supplement her own accent and vocal patterns with that of the local residents, something that I could not quite do. She also had a tendency of shortening her words as much as possible whenever she was nervous, which is something I am not capable of in the slightest.

"What happened? Is your brother alright?" she asked, still looking quite concerned and skeptical.

And now for the second largest lie I have told since arriving.

Even in this body, my sister had a stunning smile, as Ykatya's eyes softened when I used it before speaking, my voice evening out, "He is fine. We had a conversation together, he explained a bit beyond the basics of Necromancy, and gave me a number of tomes to find and read over, since they were from 'ancient' history. I hope they exist already, or else he would not have been entirely helpful."

She nodded, returning the smile before motioning at the broken jar and sighing, "I suppose we just need to clean this up, then."

I turned to look at the jar, remembering the odd sensation of being inside it, incorporeal and rather disoriented; I hated it. Without saying a word, I lifted my hand and flicked a spell of entropy at the glass, then at the metal frame, watching both quickly decay right before our eyes. There was some small sense of satisfaction with the action, and I could not help but smile slightly at the results.

"Well, that's one way to do it," the Bahmi woman said quietly. "Get your cloak and we'll sneak back into Meridian – just be sure to bring a skeletal minion with you to speak to the Master Magi of Necromancy tomorrow, tell him that the container malfunctioned, and you had to bond with the soul immediately."

At least I was not the only dishonest person present.


	7. Chapter 7

Yet again my carless sister had gotten us into one hell of a predicament; this time, however, she could not talk her way out of it and I could not cast my way out of it. I had a feeling that this was quite permanent, at least until our death, which if I recall correctly…is nearly impossible for an Ascendant. I need to keep a positive outlook, since there's no getting out of it; however it is a bit out of my grasp at the moment.

Strangely, I knew she was not dead, but…sleeping, somewhere. I have not been able to pin down precisely where, but I have narrowed it down to either my mind, or the strange metal disc on the chest of her body…our body…whatever.

I nearly topped my two previous extravagant lies when I met the Master Magi of Necromancy, who was a bit of a dunce compared to some of the people I had trained with, and I would like to think compared to myself. He bought my story, likely because of the 'talent' I displayed for the necromantic arts – he started begging me to give up the path of a Warlock and devote my studies to that of the Necromancer, to which I could only snicker over. Perhaps there would be some amusement in my situation with this man trying to teach me…

There was one slight problem, however. Either Ykatya knew exactly what was going on, or she had other theories that lead her to be quite wary around me. While I understand that Dia chose to confide in the Bahmi woman, I did not, and would not until I had more time to appraise her. She had not yet revealed to anyone what had transpired, at least no one who approached me about the situation, but that was not quite enough to assuage my doubts. If you had ever met any one of my sister's lovers, you would understand why I am so cautious about her choice in friends.

She had to obtain a third soul soon, too. I was not overly fond of her first choice, although it was not as bad as it could have been, I suppose. Her second choice made me smile, due to how often she had tried to get me to teach her more about Necromancy. But now we are faced with this third one, and I believe it would be best to choose something that perhaps both of us can enjoy. This would take some time to research, however I believed that any of the Master Magi would understand the desire to know exactly what one is getting into.

Naturally, I spent most of my second day and all of my third in the libraries of Meridian, studying everything I could about each of the possible magics that could be garnered from soul interactions. Elementalism annoyed me, and I lacked any knowledge of what my sister thought on the subject; knowing Dia, she enjoyed how flashy and extravagant the spells of Pyromancers and Elementalists could get. Archons sounded appealing to me, as the ideal of stolen power was quite tempting already, and theirs was more directly so than even my own – unless it was true that Necromancers stole their power from Regulos himself.

The last one I researched seemed to be the most viable option for the current situation, as I was drawn to the idea of being able to have a different kind of control over people, whereas Dia wished for people to love and adore her and fall under her charismatic spell – Dominator was clearly the choice then, I think. She would likely enjoy…

…I need not think like that.

Aside from an initial moment of being stunned, my fallen knight and I reclaimed the soul of some Dominator after a major Death rift appeared a few kilometers away from Meridian. I could not help but cringe as I opened the container that would encase his soul, recalling my own brief time in such a device and the strange happenings that followed. I was almost leery about going through the soul interaction within the sight of, well, anyone at this point. I had not yet determined if the interaction Dia and I experienced was going to be the standard for her, or if Thontic really had taken our oath seriously – yet I could not quite figure out if the Thontic of this time would know of what occurred in the future of a separate timeline.

Cradling the contraption, I began the walk back to Meridian, reminding myself that attempting to understand the Vigil – or any gods for that matter – was more likely to result in a headache than in answers. Focusing my mind elsewhere, I began to prepare a number of possibly believable lies to give the Magi should something strange happen. That is, of course, if I were the one to regain control of our body once the interaction finished, though I was sure that Dia was quick witted enough to come up with a lie on the spot, and whatever her words didn't convince, her smile and large eyes would.

Surprisingly, nothing very spectacular happened when I unbound the soul and began to breathe it in. I became a little light headed, and saw a flood of memories about the dominating magics the prior being had become a master of, a deluge of information committing itself into my mind so quickly it was as if I just suddenly had known these things all my life. Thankfully, we didn't get a third party joining us, as I felt the sentience fade from my mind and soul without taking the information it had shared along with it. While I have no solid proof at the moment, I believe this may be what our 'normal' interactions will be like as we learn more from other souls.

Unsurprisingly, I took to the arts of domination almost as well as I did to my treasured necromantic arts; both Magi will likely be arguing over which one I will be the protégé to, while the first Magi that my sister dealt with attempts to remind them both who the student's first teacher was to begin with. That would likely be an interesting debate for a brief moment, though really I wouldn't want to get caught up in such a thing – I have no plans of remaining a 'student' for long.

Shortly before bed, I decided to jot down a list of the events that had occurred since Dia and I had shared…whatever that moment was. We were long lived in our first life, for Eth at least, but true immortality was likely to rob us of many of the smaller details of life, and I felt that perhaps they were something to remember. I really hoped they would serve to show my sister what a mess she got us into, and keep her from doing such again in the future.

Our bed is surprisingly comfortable, and it was not long before a familiar darkness consumed me.


End file.
